


Sheets

by Shakespeare42



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blackfrost - Freeform, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loki Does What He Wants, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, NatashaxLoki, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:19:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeare42/pseuds/Shakespeare42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Songfic for the song "Sheets" by Damien Rice. Natasha and Loki know that they're both stuck in the same trap; and yet, despite knowing that, neither can bring themselves to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sheets

Is he still coming around like an injured bird needing a nest?  
A place to rest his head in a song you'll regret.  
Lord knows I don't want to compete,  
But I still sleep in the very sheets he's been in.

"Swallow him whole like a pill that makes you choke and stills your soul.  
You have the nerve to look me in the eyes and lie.  
Send him back,  
I'll share the trap that you have me in.

Is he still coming around like an injured bird needing a nest?  
A place to rest his head in a song you'll regret  
Still you take him  
Lord knows I don't want to compete  
But I still sleep in the very sheets he's been in

Swallow him whole like a pill that makes you choke and stills your soul  
You have the nerve to look me in the eyes and lie  
Send him back  
I'll share the trap that you have me in."

 

Cold arms wrapped around Natasha’s sleeping form, their grip as comfortable as heavy chains. She barely opened her eyes as her breath caught in her throat; she wasn’t even startled by his presence, which was a disturbing thought. 

“Is he still coming around like an injured bird needing a nest?” 

The voice was as cool as the skin that pressed against her bare back, crisp, accented, and an octave below velvet that did things to her she wouldn’t admit to anyone. The poetry and dramatics were taken without question- homage to his faraway home planet and its customs. 

“You know full well. I could feel you in the room, sick bastard,” She whispered in the darkness, the crimson silken sheets slipping around their entwined bodies. She could feel his breath lightly on her shoulder yet she makes no move to turn to him, to see or feel him. She was far too tired and entirely not in the mood for that at this hour- not that it ever stopped Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim before. 

A rumbling chuckle that vibrated through her chest left Loki, and Natasha could feel the sly god’s smirk without having to see it. 

“Oh, he may rest his head here and sing his little song each night,” Loki accentuated his possessiveness and smugness with the faintest, lightest of nips to her exposed shoulder blade, “but I know you regret it. I can feel it. Of course, I’m not here to compete….But, still I sleep in the very sheets he’s been in.” 

There was sin and mocking dripping from Loki’s smoothe words, each gliding off his tongue and into the mess of wild scarlet hair before him. Natasha felt the vice around her torso constrict and she couldn’t help but hum in response. 

They had an unspoken agreement between them that they never talked about what they did in private in the dark of night. It was still an erratic, uneven arrangement, with Loki only ever showing up in her bed at the oddest of times. Natasha’s thoughts wandered back to their former experiences as she now lay in bed, feeling Loki’s form pressed against her…  


“I saw you take him in this night, as with every night, that poor, broken archer,” Loki said quietly with no less bite and disdain in his voice. “You reasons for allowing it and his advances never cease to amaze and perplex me, Little Spider.” 

Now, the fiery Russian assassin has many a harsh word to say to the man who holds her who thinks himself a god….Agent Bar- Clint, she reminded herself to break from her work mindset- is responsible for her current position in SHIELD, and also for saving her life on a number of memorable occasions. It is only logical that after so long, even the two coldest of spies would form some kind of a connection. Although it may appear so to many, neither of them were full blown sociopaths. 

Months ago had Clint followed her to her quarters in Stark Tower, his footsteps heavier than he would have ever stood for while sober and his quiet words and pleas too desperate for any self-respecting man, let alone superhero. Nonetheless, Natasha had taken him in, rolling with the punches when he’d kissed her. Clint had been and still was all warmth, fire, and hot passion- he was decently skilled in the bedroom, not disappointing in Natasha’s rather well-experienced books. 

But, Natasha was willing to admit to herself (and silently, to Loki) that there was no spark between them. There was physical need and desires being met, comfort given to Clint when he needed it and someone to warm Natasha’s bed when she needed it,, but there was nothing more than that trust. It didn’t take all of her skill to sense that Clint had deluded himself into thinking there was more- Loki reminded her of this often, to her own chagrin. 

Loki was intellect and ice and danger, an enemy that on any decent day she regarded with hate. And yet, there was an understanding and a kinsmanship between them when they met between the sheets or against the cold of the floor or the walls that transcended any feigned emotions she might put on for Clint. They were killers, all of them; there were still aspects of her that Clint would and could never understand that Loki had felt himself. She could feel it in him, on his skin and in the desperation in the lowest of his moans. 

Just as they never discussed their arrangement of secrecy, one never pressed the other for any information not willingly volunteered. He didn’t ask her about her day or her week or the past ten years- and she didn’t ask that of him. Clint, on the other hand, was all talk after the deed was done. He felt that talking would heal the scars of her past as they healed his; Loki, for all his renown for his words, knew better than that. Natasha found that silence between two of their worlds’ most skilled manipulators told more than any of their words combined. 

“He’s like a pill that makes you choke, isn’t he?” 

Loki was met with silence, and Natasha can’t help the tensing in her scarred spine. He’s already done far more talking than usual, and all of it seems to be directed at her interactions with Clint. It’s starting to become far too personal for her liking. 

Natasha rolled over to face him in the dark, the only light in the room coming from a few broken rays of moonlight that shone through the blinds. Still, his pale skin practically glowed in the dim light, contrasting viciously with the scarlet sheets. His hair was a black shadow on the pillow and his features were just as hazy- the clearest target is his long neck, unprotected and open to attack. 

“Quiet.” 

Her whisper was muffled all the more by his skin as her lips meet his neck, sly teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh there. It brought a delicious noise from him, that sound defeat enough for her. They’re give and take, an embracement of chaos and shifting control and power and weakness that both of them have needed for far too long.. 

A moment passed in silence where Natasha focused her attention on kissing, biting, and teasing while Loki basked in the sensation before finally, he slid his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to face him. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that it brings you joy, having him.” 

He saw a comeback and a deflection on her lips and continued before it escaped. 

“Tell me that he completes you. That he understands. That he knows when to take and be taken.” 

Green eyes flashed up in the dim to meet icy blue, faltering for a second. That second is answer enough between them, and Loki merely nodded. As much passion and sentiment Clint believes to be shared during their nighttime activities, Loki was correct in his perceptions. The sentiment and friendship is there. The trust, to an extent, is there. But a true connection, a raw, visceral acknowledgement? It’s a harshness and a level of ecstasy that Clint most likely could never understand. 

Natasha expected more mocking words. She expected a sly comment and a devious smirk to prove his point all the more and tighten the feeling in her chest tenfold. Instead, he did something that, while not a surprise, was a welcome alternative. The hand on her neck directed without force to close the space between their lips, both needing the closeness. Time passed, tongues flicked, moans slipped from their mouths and into the dark shadows around them. 

When Natasha flipped them so that Loki was on his back as she straddled him, she didn't know. Sheets separated them uselessly, but all Natasha could focus on is the honesty and truth in his bared skin that his words could never achieve. Here, in this bed, with these two bodies, neither of them can lie. Her hair of curling flames fell around her shoulders, and she could feel his eyes on him in the dark. She leaned down to kiss him, resulting in a hungry noise and a suddenly impatient hand on her hip. 

“Send him back,” Loki gasped, making Natasha pull back and look down at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“Send him back. When he comes scratching at your door like a stray in the night. Send him away to find someone more fitting to warm his bed.” Loki’s tone was flat and emotionless, but it didn’t negate the weight of the statement. 

Natasha was frozen above him, wanting to just roll her hips and feel him beneath her, ending the conversation for another day. But, she reminded herself, this was Loki. There might not be ‘another day’. 

“I…I’ll consider it.” But not for your sake, her mind added, but part of her knew he acknowledged that as well. 

“You know,” He said, tracing delicate patterns over the scars his talented fingers found on her skin, “I’m surprisingly willing to share this trap you have me in.” He chuckled, deep and rumbling, and for some reason Natasha found herself laughing too in the darkness. It is a trap that they’re both in and they both know it- yet neither, in having each other, protests.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, goodness. These two. Thank you very, very much for reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Or its characters. Or, unfortunately, its ships. Darn.


End file.
